this feeling has got to stay
by Megan-Lynn
Summary: She wonders, not for the first time, what exactly is going through his head. Post 3x07


_don't let it go away/__**this feeling has got to stay**_- from No Doubt's "New"

I think it's been years, literally, since I work fic. My goodness. Thank you Rookie Blue for bringing me back? Or should I be cursing you? LOL So, obviously, first RB fic. I just couldn't help myself after 3.07. I tried not to, but I had to. Enjoy! -

Andy wondered why she said it at all.

For herself, for Sam, to prove a point, to tell that so-called psychic to shove off?

It's not to say she didn't mean it. Andy McNally was most definitely in love with Sam Swarek. But why say it now? She knew before that freaking mind reader mentioned it that Sam wouldn't say it back.

Of course, she wouldn't even be second guessing herself if it weren't for Mr. Silent, who was currently fetching a beer out of her fridge. As he stands behind her kitchen island, she walks over slowly, like she doesn't want to spook him.

"So, I'm sorry?" Sounds good.

"What?" His goddamn face. It's just like when she busted out her "I love you" in the truck. "What for?"

"For springing that on you. Maybe I should have actually planned it. Or waited till an even more inappropriate time to say it. Or something. But my timing always sucks. As usual." Pause. "Do you want me to take it back?"

He sets his beer down and comes over to stand in front of her. So impossibly close. He reaches up and cups her face. Andy always feels this desire to giggle inappropriately when Sam gets this intensely serious look on his face. But she's able to suppress it when he leans in to gently, but quickly, kiss her.

"No, I don't want you to take it back. Andy." He stops. She figures he's trying to put his thoughts together. She wonders, not for the first time, what exactly is going through his head. It's always a puzzle, probably one she'll never understand or solve. And she surprises herself by not being saddened at the thought. It thrills her a bit at the thought of spending who knows how long just trying to figure him out.

His hands move down to her waist, gripping her a little tighter then she expects. Seeing that he has no idea what to say, she then reaches up to stroke his cheeks with her thumbs and kisses him softly. She pulls back a little, and nudges her nose against his lips, playfully, trying to pull a smile from him. Make him relax. It works a little when she smoothes her hands down his neck onto his shoulders, some of the tension gone.

"Do you want me to say thank you?" She laughs at his question. "Or I could apologize?" She shakes her head, frowning this time.

"No, don't apologize. I didn't say it to get you to say it back. I just love you and wanted to say it."

Sam's eyes close and his arms wrap around her back, pulling her tightly against him, at hearing these words from her again. He's not displeased but he's still so serious. When he opens his eyes again, just to stare at her, unnervingly like usual, she wonders if maybe he thinks she should be upset that he can't or won't say it back.

"You know what you can do?" She asks this as her hands move back up his neck, massaging lightly, feeling the soft hair on the nape of his neck.

"Name it." No hesitation there.

"Lay in bed with me for five minutes when we wake up everyday instead of playing your get away game." Andy smirks as she says this, but he misses that she's half teasing.

"I don't - that's not what I do." She snorts at this.

"Really? Need I remind you about yesterday? Putting your pants on as I lay there recovering from - "

"I got called into work."

"After your pants were on, Sam."

He sighs, heavily, as if she's asking so much from him. "Yeah, alright, I'll see what I can do." He flashes a grin, telling her maybe it's not a hardship to just lay in bed with her when the sun comes up.

She smiles back as she steps out of his arms to get a beer for herself out of the fridge. He watches her, leaning over on the kitchen island.

"So, you're really okay with this?" She pauses, thinking about it. Andy asked herself this a few times already. But remembering his reaction to her three words earlier, she's good.

"Yeah, it's fine."

"Sure." He looks unimpressed.

"I really am." Really.

He hesitates before asking: "What did you mean when you said you didn't care if I've never said it before? What makes you think I haven't?"

"Oh, I um. That dumb psychic guy kind of said something. I guess I just got caught up in what I was saying. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"Hey, no, it's fine. It surprised me, as did your outburst. I don't think I've never said it," he laughs a little because of course he's said it before. "I guess I just never really expressed it as often as I should have. I think if I'm being honest, I can't remember the last time I said it to anyone."

"Your sister?"

"Nah, she hates mushy shit." They both chuckle at that. She puts her beer down to walk back over to him and wraps her arms around his neck.

"Well, I occasionally like mushy shit, but I'm okay. I am. I mean, it's not like you hate me."

"No," there's Andy's favourite grin from him. "I definitely do not hate you."

He then kisses her again, the softest caress of his lips against hers. She breathes a sigh, as they just kind of stand there. Savouring the moment. But sometimes, her stomach makes plans of its own.

"I guess I'm kind of hungry."

"Yeah, I got the idea."

Two hours later, they lay sprawled on the couch. Half asleep, Andy barely notices Sam trying to wake her.

"Hey, come on, let's go to bed."

"I'm too tired." He laughs, grateful they have the next day off.

"Come on, it's just a few steps."

"Ugh, fine." Ungracefully, she gets up, happy that she changed her clothes earlier to something more comfortable because she has no intention of doing anything but fall into her bed. Which she does, literally.

She can feel Sam pulling the blankets out from under her and then the bed dips as he gets in. She thinks he turned the lights off.

Usually they sleep with a little bit of space between them, they both tend to move a bit in their sleep. But she is vaguely aware of Sam putting his arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.

She hears him mumble into her hair, "I really far from hate you, Andy."

In response, she just puts her hand over his, the one splayed on her stomach, just beneath her breast.

He breathes out and draws her closer.

In the morning, they lay in bed debating breakfast options for ten minutes.


End file.
